This Little Girl, This Miracle
by Rapunzeline
Summary: Musical-based. Living in her beautiful old house, with Matilda as her adopted daughter, and the Trunchbull gone for good, Miss Honey couldn't ask for anything more. But when her little miracle gets sick and ends up in the hospital, she wonders whether she has what it takes to be a good mother.
1. I'm Here

Miss Honey and Matilda both agreed that lunch hour was one of the high points of their days, not because the food in the school cafeteria was anything exceptional, but because it was their one chance during the school day to spend time together. The tradition had started on Matilda's first day of school, when Miss Honey had noticed her exceptional pupil at a table by herself in the middle of the crowded cafeteria, kneeling on a chair and hunched over a large book that was spread on the table before her. Miss Honey politely asked if she might join her, and Matilda looked up from the book just long enough to give a nod of consent. She seemed more interested in reading _Oliver Twist_ than having a conversation with her teacher, but little by little she opened up to Miss Honey's friendly inquiries. By the end of the week, their lunchtime conversations had become an established tradition that Miss Honey looked forward to as the highlight of her day. Now that she was headmistress of Magnus Hall (formerly known as Crunchem Hall), she enjoyed the time she spent with Matilda and her friends all the more; for, truth be told, she often missed teaching the younger students. The older students were kind to Matilda, but missed being in class Lavender, Amanda, Eric, and especially Miss Honey.

One drizzly afternoon, Matilda seemed less engaged than usual in the chatter and imaginative games the other kids played over the lunch table. She had hardly touched her food. "Don't forget to eat, Matilda," Miss Honey gently reminded her. "I'm not very hungry," said Matilda quietly. "Are you feeling alright?" Miss Honey asked. Matilda nodded. Miss Honey was not convinced, but she decided to drop the subject for now. She could always fix Matilda a nice tea when they got home.

…

Being headmistress meant that Miss Honey often had a great deal of paperwork to do and telephone calls to make at the end of the day. Matilda never complained of going home late. She would settle into the big, comfortable armchair in the corner of Miss Honey's office, and more often than not finish her homework before they left. This particular afternoon, Miss Honey had quite a lot of work to finish––not hard work, but dreadfully tedious. She glanced over at Matilda, who was curled up in the armchair with a large book spread out across her lap. "What are you reading?" she asked. Matilda looked up from her book. "Oh, um…Worthington's Medical Dictionary," she said. "Interesting choice," Miss Honey remarked, "Is that for a class?"

"No," said Matilda. "What were you reading about?" asked Miss Honey. "I was looking up symptoms," said Matilda, "Trying to find out…what's wrong with me."

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Miss Honey asked. Matilda shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I've just been feeling a bit ill," she said, "but I'm sure it's nothing."

"Matilda!" Miss Honey exclaimed, "Why didn't you tell me?" Matilda looked as though she were about to cry. "I didn't want to upset you," she said, "Please don't worry about me; I'll be all right. I'm sorry." Miss Honey got up from her desk. She knelt in front of the armchair so that she was looking up into Matilda's face, and took both of the little girl's hands in hers. "Matilda, darling," she said, "You don't have to hide anything from me. I promised that would take care of you. If something's not right with you, I want to know, and try to help you as best I can. Please, my dear, it's the least I can do for you, after everything you've done for me. If you're sick, or frightened, or upset, don't be afraid to tell me about it. Alright?" Matilda nodded. "Yes, Miss Honey," she said, "I'm sorry." Miss Honey reached up to wipe away a tear that was trickling down Matilda's cheek. "Shh…" she whispered, "There's nothing to be sorry for."

She touched the back of her hand to Matilda's forehead, which felt a bit warmer than it ought to. "How long have you been ill?" she asked. "Well, I woke up this morning feeling––not quite right," said Matilda, "But I thought it would go away." Miss Honey shook her head. "Dear, if you'd told me I never would have taken you to school." She got up and went back to her desk. "I can finish this at home," she said, "Just let me make one more telephone call, and then we'll go home and you can lie down. Alright, sweetheart?"

"Okay," said Matilda. Miss Honey sorted the unfinished papers into a folder. How many times, she wondered, had Matilda suffered in silence, keeping all her hurts to herself because she had been told she was a nuisance and a burden? How many times had she cried alone because her parents could not be bothered to care for her? Miss Honey felt her cheeks burning as she thought about the horrible way the Wormwoods had treated their daughter. She stuffed the folder of papers into her bag, giving it a fierce shake. "Are you alright, Miss Honey?" asked Matilda. "Oh! Yes dear," said Miss Honey apologetically, "One telephone call, then we'll go home."

…

When they got home, Miss Honey tucked Matilda into bed, with instructions to call for her at once if she needed anything. She was rummaging the kitchen cupboards for any tinned soup she could tempt Matilda with, for it worried her that the child still had not eaten, when she heard the light pounding of little feet hurrying down the hall upstairs. "Matilda?" called Miss Honey, "Are you all right?" No answer came, except for a disconcerting choking sound. Miss Honey rushed upstairs, found Matilda bent over the toilet, clutching her stomach and gagging. With one hand, she gathered Matilda's hair at the back of her neck; the other hand she pressed against Matilda's forehead. The little girl was positively burning up.

When Matilda stopped retching, Miss Honey reached for a washcloth and wiped her face for her. "Poor dear," she said, "What happened?"

"I was lying in bed," said Matilda, "sort of sleeping, but not really asleep, and then all of a sudden I woke up and I felt sick, and my tummy hurt, and I ran in here so I wouldn't get sick on the bed." She swallowed hard to fight back the tears that were choking her voice. "It hurts," she whimpered, "it really, really hurts." Miss Honey picked her up; Matilda clasped her arms around Miss Honey's neck and laid her head on her shoulder. She might be a genius, but right now she was a sick little girl who needed comforting.

Miss Honey rubbed her back, humming quietly. She tried to stay calm, but she was worried that Matilda's illness was something more serious than just an upset tummy. She was so new to this whole business of being a mother… Perhaps she was worrying over nothing, but it couldn't hurt to get a professional opinion. She had not yet found a regular pediatrician for Matilda––the Wormwoods had not concerned themselves much with their children's health. But there was a free clinic not far away that Miss Honey had gone to a few times during her years of enslavement to Miss Trunchbull. For now, she figured, that was the best place to take Matilda.


	2. You've Nothing to Fear

After examining Matilda, the doctor at the clinic had sent them to the hospital for further tests. "She's showing signs of appendicitis," the doctor had told Miss Honey, "but we don't have the equipment here to make a proper diagnosis. I'd recommend you take her to the hospital, ma'am. I could be wrong, but better safe than sorry."

The emergency waiting room was crowded, and it was some time before a doctor could see them. Miss Honey tried to stay calm while they waited, but it was dreadfully hard. If something was wrong with her precious Matilda, she wanted her taken care of right away! Matilda seemed to be taking the whole ordeal rather well. Expecting a wait, she had brought along Worthington's Medical Dictionary, and was sitting cross-legged next to Miss Honey with the thick book propped on her knees, opened to the entry on appendicitis. Miss Honey wondered how she could stay so calm, in contrast to the other children in the room, who were bawling or squirming in their parents' arms. When at last one of the nurses called for Matilda Wormwood, the little girl looked up from her book with wide eyes staring out of a pale face. Miss Honey took her hand. "It'll be all right, dear," she said.

If Matilda was nervous, she did not let it show. She endured a blood test and an ultrasound without so much as a whimper, and the nurses and technicians all remarked about what a "good" and "brave" little girl she was. But Miss Honey knew from the look in Matilda's eyes that she was scared, and kept a close watch, for strange things tended to happen when Matilda got upset.

Miss Honey and Matilda were conducted to a bench in the hospital corridor to wait for the test results. After a while, a short, dark-haired man in pale blue scrubs and a white lab coat came down the hall. "Pardon me," he said, "Are you Miss Honey?" The young woman nodded. The doctor held out his hand. "I'm Dr. Hicks," he said, "I believe you know my son, Nigel?"

"Oh, yes!" said Miss Honey, "Nigel's a delightful boy. It's a pleasure to meet you sir."

"Likewise, ma'am," said Dr. Hicks. "And you must be Matilda," he said, shaking hands with the little girl, "I've heard an awful lot about you. You sound like quite a remarkable young lady, from what Nigel's told me."

"Thank you, sir," said Matilda. Dr. Hicks knelt down so that he was at eye-level with the little girl. "Well, Matilda, I think you can understand what I'm going to say to you––if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask. The ultrasound showed that you do have appendicitis." Matilda swallowed. "So…am I…am I going to have surgery, then?" she asked.

"Yes," said Dr. Hicks. "You'll be having surgery within the next few hours. I'll be your surgeon, so I can assure you that you'll be in good hands."

"Are you going to do a laparoscopic or an open appendectomy?" asked Matilda. Dr. Hicks raised his eyebrows. "Well!" he said, "Been doing a bit of research, have you?"

"Yes," said Matilda, "When the doctor at the clinic said I might have appendicitis, I thought I'd better read up on the subject."

"We're going to do it laparoscopically," said Dr. Hicks. "The recovery time is shorter, and it will leave smaller scars––but I suppose you already know that. If everything goes as planned, you should be able to go home tomorrow."

"You're going to put me under…general anesthesia, right?" said Matilda.

"Yes," said Dr. Hicks, "Yes, that's right. It'll be just like going to sleep, and when you wake up it will all be over."

"When you put me under," said Matilda, "how great of a chance is there that I won't wake up?"

Dr. Hicks laughed nervously. "Not much at all," he said, "An appendectomy is a very simple procedure nowadays; survival rates are very, very good."

"But there is a chance," said Matilda. "Isn't there a chance that I could…die?"

"A _very_ slight chance," admitted Dr. Hicks. "But it has never happened with any of my patients."

"What if my appendix ruptures?" asked Matilda.

"Then we'll have to do your surgery a bit differently, and you'll probably have to stay in the hospital a while longer. But thankfully we've caught it early enough that we should be able to remove your appendix before that happens." He gave Matilda an encouraging smile. "Matilda, I promise you, I will do everything I can to make sure that your surgery goes smoothly and you have a quick recovery. You'll be fine."

Dr. Hicks stood up. "One of the nurses is going to come and help you get ready," he said, "I'll see you when it's time for your surgery." Miss Honey put her arm around Matilda's shoulders. "Are you alright, Matilda?" she asked. Matilda looked up at her. "Could you…hold me?" she asked. "Of course, dear," said Miss Honey. She gently lifted the little girl onto her lap, and held her close. Matilda nestled against her; Miss Honey felt her small body trembling. "I'm frightened, Miss Honey," she said quietly, "I don't want to die."

"You're not going to," Miss Honey whispered, "You heard what Dr. Hicks said; you're going to be fine."

"But what if something goes wrong?"

"Matilda, darling, one thing you've taught me is that you can't let fear control you. You showed me what it means to be brave. It's all right to be scared, but you must trust that the doctors will take good care of you. Everything will turn out fine." She closed her eyes, and kissed the top of Matilda's head. _Believe it, Jenny. Believe it. Everything will turn out fine._


	3. Miracle

"Matilda? Matilda, dear, wake up." Miss Honey brushed her fingers lightly over the little girl's forehead. Matilda's eyes fluttered open. "Hello, Miss Honey…" she said sleepily, "Is it…is it all over?"

"Yes, darling," said Miss Honey, "Your surgery's over."

"And it went quite well, too," added Dr. Hicks, "Found everything just as we expected. Your appendix was not ruptured, so we were able to remove it too much difficulty. By tomorrow night you should be home in your own bed." Matilda turned her head to look up at him. "Thank you, doctor," she said, "Thank you for saving my life." Dr. Hicks smiled. "It was an honor, my dear," he said.

"How are you feeling now?" Miss Honey asked. "I'm fine," said Matilda. She yawned. "What time is it?" she asked, "Is it quite late?"

"Yes, dear, it is rather late," said Miss Honey, stifling a yawn herself. "Miss Honey, you look awfully tired," Matilda remarked, "Why don't you go home to bed?"

"I wouldn't think of leaving you alone, dear," Miss Honey replied.

"I'll be alright," said Matilda. "The surgery was the main thing I was worried about, but now it's over I'm not afraid anymore." She yawned again. "You should go home…and rest, Miss Honey. Don't want you…to get ill as well…"

"If you insist, Matilda," said Miss Honey. "Is it alright if I stay to see you settled in your room and tuck you in?"

Matilda nodded, her eyes almost closed. "Yes, please; I'd like that."

…

When Matilda woke, stripes of sunlight fell across her bed through the half-closed blinds on the window. She looked about, remembering where she was. A nurse came into the room. "Ah, good afternoon, dearie!" she said, "Had a good long sleep, did you?" Matilda nodded. "I guess I must have," she said. Her voice sounded hoarse. The nurse poured some water from a plastic pitcher on the bedside table into a paper cup. "Here you go, luv," she said, placing the cup in Matilda's hand, "Drink up."

"Thanks," said Matilda. The nurse bustled about the room, checking on various things. "Want the telly on, luv?" she asked. "No, thank you," said Matilda. "If you don't mind…could I have a book, please?"

"Of course, dear," said the nurse. "I know just the one." She trotted out of the room, and returned a few minutes later with a slightly worn copy of _Madeline_. "There you are," she said, laying the book on Matilda's lap. "Just the book for a little girl who's just had her appendix out." Matilda gave a little sigh of disappointment, so softly that the nurse did not hear it. "Thanks," she said."

…

Miss Honey spent a good deal of her day explaining to the schoolchildren––and the faculty––why Matilda was not in school, and assuring them that she was going to be just fine. She went home with an impressive array of colorful cards, scrawled with illegible, but heartfelt, get-well wishes. After stopping by the house to collect a few of Matilda's things, she made her way to the hospital. She stopped at the library on the way to return some books. When she mentioned to Mrs. Phelps that Matilda was in the hospital, the good-hearted librarian insisted on going with her to visit the little girl, and hastily gathered an armful of Matilda's favorite books.

When they got to the hospital, Miss Honey approached the front desk. "Excuse me," she asked the receptionist at the front desk, "could you tell me which room Matilda Wormwood is in?"

"Matilda Wormwood…" the receptionist repeated under her breath, glancing at her computer screen, "Hold on a minute." A tall, blond doctor who was walking by stopped in his tracks and turned around. "I beg your pardon, ma'am," he said, "Did you say Matilda Wormwood?" Miss Honey caught her breath. "Yes…" she answered. Had something bad happened to her precious girl? "Do you know Matilda?" asked Mrs. Phelps. "Well, not really," the doctor answered. "I helped bring her into this world…that would be, what, five, six years ago now?"

"Nearly six," Miss Honey put in. "She was the most beautiful baby I have ever seen," said the doctor. "Prettier than my own kids when they were born. Had the most intelligent, knowing look in her little eyes. She was the sort of child you just know is going to grow up to be…extraordinary."

"That she is," said Mrs. Phelps. "Absolutely extraordinary."

"Wouldn't surprise me a bit if she turned out to be some sort of genius," said the doctor.

"She certainly is that," said Miss Honey.

"Remarkable child…" said the doctor, "But…you're not her mother."

"No––well, yes––not naturally, but––I've adopted her," said Miss Honey, "Just a couple of months ago."

"Have you, now? Well, I'm glad to hear it," said the doctor. "Her parents were a couple of idiots. Glad to hear she's with someone who realizes how special she is."

"Would you like to come say hello to her?" asked Miss Honey. The doctor glanced at his wristwatch. "Can't, I'm afraid," he said. "But I'll stop by later if I get a chance."

"Here we are: Wormwood, Matilda, Room 212," said the receptionist. "The lift is just ahead on your right, and her room will be on your left."

"Thank you," said Miss Honey and Mrs. Phelps. They found Room 212 with ease; the door was half open, and they peeked in eagerly. "Matilda?" Miss Honey called. "She's not there!" gasped Mrs. Phelps, "Oh, Matilda––"

"Now, now, Mrs. Phelps," said Miss Honey, "perhaps she's just gone to the loo. Or, um…"

"Are you looking for Matilda?" a friendly voice asked. Miss Honey and Mrs. Phelps both turned around to see a nurse standing behind them. "Yes," they both replied. "Come with me," said the nurse. She led them down the corridor and around a corner. "She really shouldn't be up and about just yet," she said, "But when I saw what she was up to, I hadn't the heart to send her back to bed." She stopped in front of a door with bright-colored shapes and the words "Children's Playroom" painted on it beneath a large square of glass. She put her finger to her lips, and motioned for the two women to come close and look in the window. Miss Honey and Mrs. Phelps eagerly peered in. Matilda was sitting on a small plastic chair in the middle of a rug in the corner, with a book open on her lap, which was quite usual. What was unusual was the crowd of smaller children sitting on the floor at her feet. There were even a few who looked older than Matilda, listening with rapt interest as she read aloud. She held up the book with the pages facing her audience, to show the pictures. Though her voice was muffled through the door, Mrs. Phelps and Miss Honey could hear her reading:

" 'Good night, little girls! Thank the Lord you are well!

And now go to sleep!' said Miss Clavel.

And she turned out the light–

and closed the door–

and that's all there is–

there isn't any more."

The children sitting on the floor applauded. Miss Honey softly turned the doorknob and opened the door. Matilda immediately looked up. "Miss Honey!" she cried, "Mrs. Phelps!" She started to jump up to hug them, but her little face scrunched up in pain at the sudden movement. Miss Honey ran to her and gathered her in her arms. "Matilda," she said quietly, "My little miracle."

"Here you go, Matilda," said Mrs. Phelps, setting down the stack of books she was carrying next to Matilda's chair, "Something to make your recovery go by a little quicker." Matilda's eyes lit up. "Thank you!" she said.

"Will you read us another story, Matilda?" asked a little girl with her arm in a sling. "I could," said Matilda, "Or I could tell you one that I've made up myself. Would you like that?"

Mrs. Phelps let out a shriek of delight. "Ah, yes! Story, please Matilda!"

"All right," said Matilda, settling into her chair, while Miss Honey and Mrs. Phelps sat down on the rug with the children.

"Once upon a time…"


End file.
